


It's not that difficult/To get my head around/I'll never meet another you

by Neyiea



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Possessive Behavior, ambiguous timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: Love me-love me-love meMore than you possibly canIt's not that complicatedNo matter what they sayYou'll never meet another me
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 87





	It's not that difficult/To get my head around/I'll never meet another you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [murdertwinsxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdertwinsxo/gifts).



> Ha! While you were busy sleeping I was busy writing fanfic (as I tend to do). <3
> 
> Title and summary from Stalker's Tango by Autoheart; a very, very Wayleska song that I am so very happy to have been introduced to. 
> 
> Inspired both by the song and by these two incredible ideas melding into one: Jeremiah purposefully reapplying lipstick between kisses to mark Bruce up, and Jeremiah demanding that Bruce love him while being rough and possessive and unhinged. Nice.
> 
> xoxo

Imprints of lips on otherwise unmarked skin, the colour fading with each impression until no pigment transfers at all. More deep red sliding onto a smiling mouth under the watchful, fascinated eyes of the only person in the world who mattered. More kisses. More marks.

More, more, more; until Bruce is left shaking and flustered underneath him.

Mine, Jeremiah thinks possessively, touches turning from soft and reverent to hard and covetous. Bruce tenses, relaxes, tenses, relaxes, steady like the motion of waves upon the shore. Jeremiah wants him _unsteady_ , Jeremiah wants him _desperate_ , Jeremiah wants him to realize exactly _who he belongs to._

His, his, his.

He winds a hand into Bruce’s hair and pulls hard, reveling in the shocked gasp that gusts into the sparse amount of space between them. His kisses turn biting. Even if Bruce washes off the smears of lipstick that Jeremiah has left behind on him, he’ll still be marked. Skin broken and bruised with all of the devoted care and love and need that fills up Jeremiah’s chest and his head; the screaming demands to make sure that street-rat never so much as laid her eyes upon Bruce again shuffling to the background for other screaming demands to take center stage.

Make it good. Make it unforgettable. Make sure Bruce cannot put it behind him.

Make love to him. Fuck him. Slow and sweet. Fast and filthy. All of it at once.

Overwhelm him. Make him squirm. Make him cry. Make him _want._

Jeremiah’s hands grip Bruce’s hips hard enough that it must hurt. Bruce’s eyes are wide, pupils blown. He isn’t trying to run away because he wants this just as much as Jeremiah does. Of course he does.

They’re connected. Of course he does.

Jeremiah delves in again, a hand working between their bodies. He’d been gentle before, whilst plying Bruce’s body with the very first batch of waxy red kisses, but any remaining patience has burnt away under the heat that Bruce so easily ignites inside of him with even the softest of words and the slightest of touches; each small act of reciprocation winding Jeremiah tighter until he’s ready to detonate and take the whole city out with him. He forces three fingers inside and bites into the skin above Bruce’s heart as his darling arcs his back. His teeth dig and dig, until skin begins to break, and then he sucks until he’s sure that he’ll have left a sizable bruise over such an important place.

This is where I live Bruce, he thinks to himself, drunk on the notion. I’ve built a house inside of you, inside of your heart. He kisses Bruce’s gasping mouth, the blood staining his teeth and lips slipping back inside the body of his beloved. 

It’s where I belong. You understand, don’t you?

His fingers shove deeper, deeper, harder, harder. Bruce gasps and chokes like it’s almost too much for him, but Jeremiah knows he can take it. Jeremiah knows he can take everything. He bites a path down Bruce’s ribs, he leaves bruises on his hipbones, he scratches a hot trail down the entirety of Bruce’s left thigh. Bruce’s hands dig into his hair.

“Miah,” he calls softly between moans that are setting Jeremiah ablaze. “Jeremiah.”

“That’s right, Bruce. It will only ever be me making you feel this way. I’m the only one capable of it.” He withdraws his hand. “It’s not that difficult to get your head around, is it, my darling?” He allows his cock to drag against Bruce’s cleft even though he’s aching to be inside just as much as he’s sure Bruce is aching to be full. “It’s not complicated at all.”

There will never be another Jeremiah.

There will never be another _Bruce._

He looks down upon Bruce; the curve of kiss marks painted in a mimic of a smile over his lips and cheeks, the steadily growing bruise over his heart, his dreamy gaze. He feels completely and utterly in love and completely and utterly unhinged. Hungry and feral. Next time he’ll take Bruce on his hands and knees; pull his hair, press his chest against his back, press a hand hard against his belly just to see if he could feel himself inside of him, dig his nails into his hips and smack his ass and make him scream into his pillows. Ride him hard and come inside of him and push his spunk back in with his fingers if it started to drip out. Fall asleep cocooned around him and slide back inside of him as soon as he wakes up, hooking one of Bruce’s legs over his own and pinching his nipples until they’re red and sore and Bruce is begging for Jeremiah to touch his cock.

This time—their first time—Jeremiah wants and needs to see his face.

He thrusts all the way inside, Bruce’s legs jerking on either side of him. He’s hot and tight and perfect and Jeremiah’s and Jeremiah _loves_ him.

“Miah.” Bruce’s hands scrabble against his shoulders. His cheeks are flushed. He’s gorgeous. Jeremiah is going to burn the world down for him. “Oh my god. I feel—I feel—”

“Tell me, Bruce.” His touch turns gentle again, though he is left nearly shaking with the effort of it, as one hand lifts to push hair away from Bruce’s warm face. “Tell me what you feel.” The hand drags down, pressing against Bruce’s dick. Bruce reflexively clenches around him. Jeremiah hisses out a breath from between clenched teeth and does it again, adoring the feeling of Bruce twitching and dripping against his palm. 

“I feel so good,” Bruce says lowly, chest heaving. “I love it.”

Love, Jeremiah thinks hotly.

Love, love, love.

Bruce has never said that word around him before.

Jeremiah draws back and slams inside hard enough that the bedframe lurches with the force of it.

“Love me,” he demands. “Only me.” He pulls away and rocks in just as firmly. “Only ever me.”

“Miah, I—” Bruce’s breath seems to catch in his throat. Jeremiah braces his hands against the bed and fucks into him, feeling frantic with need.

“Love me,” he repeats, plunging inside and feeling a new heat spark at the sound of their skin colliding. “Love me. Love me. Love me,” continues, each order punctuated by the back and forth pitching of his hips. Every time he drives inside he can feel Bruce’s hard cock brush against him and it drives him crazy, knowing that Bruce loves this.

Bruce trembles beneath him, body rocking in the wake of Jeremiah’s onslaught. His eyes are clenched shut and his mouth is open and he can’t seem to speak, rendered momentarily incoherent in the aftermath of all that Jeremiah is giving to him. To see him—so eloquent, so expressive, so evocative with his words—stripped of his ability to articulate himself turns Jeremiah on even more, his hard thrusts becoming sloppy.

“You’ll never meet another me, Bruce,” Jeremiah tells him, words slurring. He feels feverish and delirious. “You’ll never meet someone who loves you like me, Bruce.”

Bruce’s arms fold around him, his legs lock behind Jeremiah’s hips, he pulls Jeremiah closer and Jeremiah _loves him_.

“I love you, I love you,” Jeremiah says, feeling nearly euphoric to be held in the circle of Bruce’s arms.

“Mmm— _Miah_.”

“Love me, Bruce, love me,” he says again, and this time it sounds like less of a command and more of a plea. He rocks into Bruce and feels as if a fuse inside of him has been lit; the sparking end drawing closer, closer, closer. “Love me as much as I love you.”

“Jeremiah,” Bruce pants into his ear, lips brushing Jeremiah’s overheated skin. He rocks up against Jeremiah, fucking himself on Jeremiah’s cock. “Jeremiah, I do.”

Jeremiah closes his eyes and sees corrosive green fireworks as he comes.


End file.
